Let Me Sign
by Smarley
Summary: While apart Sam is captured by hunters who want to turn him into his worst nightmare. Will Dean get there in time? Will Dean want to save Sam at all? AU after 5.04 "The End" Limp!Sam Protective!Caring!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**AN: It's my first story in a while, creative juices have been lacking lately. But I thought I would give it a try. I hope it doesn't disappoint, let me know what you think. **

**While apart from one another Sam is captured by hunters who want to turn him into his worst nightmare. AU after 5.04 "The End".**

**ENJOY**

Lies, Liars, con artists, his life. They all fit, intricate puzzle pieces encompassing who he was, and who he was surrounded by. No one had ever been straight with him, no one had ever been in it to help him, he had been cursed since the day he was born.

Sam garbled, blood seeping from the corners of his chapped lips. He had been tied up for more than a week. Demon blood, his only sustenance, was continuously shoved into his mouth and forced down his throat.

"Piece of shit."

A heavy boot landed in his ribs. Sam could feel his lungs seize, the air rushing out as the weight of the boot crushed into his chest. He tried to curl in to himself, to ease the pain and give him a chance to catch his breath.

"You did this Sam, you did this to all of us and now you're going to fix it." The blond hunter sneered, vial in hand.

Sam knew what was coming next, knew what that vial meant. He tried to shut his mouth, willing it to stay closed. He had promised Dean he would never drink demon blood again, and there was no way he was going to break that.

"I don't know why you always seem to want to fight this. You should just accept it, because you don't have a choice." The hunter sneered, breaking the vial in Sam's face.

Sam could feel every edge of the glass as it tore through his skin, cutting deep into his face. His blood intermingling with the demon blood that covered his chin, seeping into his system. He could feel it as pumped through his veins, the demon blood dominate over his own.

"You should just cooperate," the hunter laughed, standing straight, "Cheryl," he called, looking to the door.

A small red head walked into the room, her eyes no kinder than any of the rest. Hate and anger piercing through his tattered clothes. He had started the end of the world, they had every reason to be angry with him.

Sam wasn't sure how many people were there, every time he opened his eyes there seemed to be someone new in the room. Someone else who had their own beating to lay and their own harsh words to inflict.

He had screwed up, It wasn't something he needed to be reminded of. As soon as he had killed Lillith and looked over to Ruby, the smiling bitch with the smug look. The demon he had trusted over his own brother, the biggest mistake he had ever made. A mistake he would never forgive himself for, or expect anyone else to forgive him for, especially his brother.

After he had literally released hell on Earth he knew Dean wanted nothing to do with him, he could see the burden he was being on his brother. It was after a few hunts together that Sam realized that he had to leave his brother, because he knew Dean would never be able to make that decision for himself.

That was six months ago, six months with no contact from his brother, six months of running.

Always on the run, no one left to trust. It didn't matter how far he travelled or fast he ran, everyone seemed to want a piece of him.

Hunters didn't hunt him to kill him, they wanted to turn him. To make him into everything he hated. He had somehow managed to evade them for six months. But he got complacent, too comfortable, and now he was paying for it.

Ugly red welts covered Sam's shrinking frame, the lack of food taking its toll as the days went on.

"Someone isn't taking his meds," Cheryl cooed, kneeling next to him.

Sam could do nothing but garble in response, his mind and his mouth no longer functioning like he wanted them to. He could feel the small prick of a needle, he wanted to struggle but there was nothing left.

"Little quiet, are we?" She smiled, hanging the red filled IV bag overhead, the steady drip beginning.

"P-Please," Sam finally mumbled out, stopping the redhead who just stared at him. "Dnt"

His jaw could hardly move as he tried to form the words, seeing that he had caught the redhead's attention. "Please…." It was long and drawn out, but it was clear, exhausting Sam of all of his breath.

"It's for the best," was the only response he got before she stalked out of the room. Not looking back.

Tears fell down Sam's cheeks, clearing a muddy path through the blood, stinging his open wounds. He needed help, and no one was there to help him.

* * *

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep. His empty stomach, growling in anger was what woke him, bringing him back in to his world of pain.

A figure stood overhead. Sam flinched, crying out in pain over the forced movement. "Please… leave me alone," he called out to whoever was in the room. Hoping it was the redhead, Cheryl whom had shown some compassion before she had left the room.

"Look what they've done to you." The man stepped out from the corner. His clothes never changing, he wore the same thing he had when he had first visited.

"No," Sam mumbled, his wounds opening up once again, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt the skin rip and tear around his face before the blood began to flow around the edges.

"Sam, I don't like to see you in this sort of pain." Lucifer crouched next to him, wiping at the blood that dripped off his chin.

"I can make all of this stop, if you just tell me where you are Sammy."

"Fuck you."

"That's not very nice Sam, not that I blame you for being so angry. You're all alone, the world is falling to pieces and no one wants to come and save you."

Sam looked down, not wanting to read the truth that hid behind the devils eyes.

"You know, Dean knows you're here, he knows what's going on." The cold touch of the devils fingers trailed down Sam's cheeks, "He's the one who gave the hunters the tips on how to find you. Hell, he's even been in the house while you've been beaten and drugged in here."

"I don't believe you," Sam ground out, looking up, fresh tears filling his eyes.

"You should Sam, I wouldn't lie to you. I've never lied to you. Dean has been here, he's seen you, and he's left." Lucifer stood, sad eyes cast down at Sam who tried to hold it together.

"Dean doesn't care about you, Sam, you're no longer his responsibility. Because that's all you ever were to him, just another task on your fathers list."

"No." Sam tried to move away from the words, tried to get away from what was being said but his broken body held him firmly in place.

"Sam, would you ever let this knowingly happen to Dean?"

This caught the younger man by surprise, the question going over in his head. "No," he said staring intently at the devil who smiled back at him.

"That's because you care about your brother right?"

"Yes."

Lucifer crouched back in front of the youngest Winchester, hand on Sam's shoulder, "Well then how come Dean didn't save you when he was here?"

"I don't know," Sam muttered looking back at the blond devil that crouched before him. Dean had made it clear the last time they spoke that they were better off alone, that they were each others crutch, and Sam had agreed. Hell, Sam had been the one to suggest the time apart. But Sam just couldn't believe that his brother would do this, would let this happen to him.

Thoughts flashed and danced through his head. His time spent in the dark room had been filled with pain and confusion. But one memory stood out more than the others. He had thought he was hallucinating. His brother's gruff voice echoing down the hall and floating in to the room.

Sam had called out for him, had begged him to help. The familiar and comforting voice of his brother stopped, replaced with a viscous black whip that maimed his back. Followed by an angry voice that didn't belong to his brother, yelling that there was no one out there who wanted to save him. Sam hadn't wanted to believe it, but with the devil standing before him, what else was he supposed to believe.

"Sam, I have never let you down. I've always come to you when you needed help, even if just through you dreams. Dean wants you dead, but instead of killing you himself he's letting these pitiful fools do it for him. He doesn't love you Sam. You were always just a task on his to do list for Daddy."

Sam let it all sink in, thoughts of his childhood, of the recent years, of how quick Dean was to blame him, how quick he was to turn to Castiel.

"Sam let me help you, because right now, I'm the only one who cares enough to even think about helping you."

Sam could feel the weight of the offer on his shoulders, his broken body oozing and bleeding over the wood floors. He had no one, he had been striving for redemption, had been looking to make things right, and he was left bleeding out on the floor while Demon blood pumped through his veins.

He could feel his breath hitching in his chest, sending waves of pain through his system. Dean had been here, Dean had seen him like this, and Dean had left. He could feel his anger and frustration pooling over, wanting nothing more than to kill everyone and everything.

He had tried so hard to do what was right, had tried so hard to save everyone he loved, had tried so hard to save the world. And this is what he got for trying to be a good person. For believing in a God, for praying, for searching for the good in people. For all of his hard work this is what he got… torture, pain and being left completely and totally alone with only the devil coming to help him.

His entire body throbbed in pain, each beat of his heart reminding him of how alone he was. Staring at Lucifer Sam realized that the Devil was all he had in the world, the only one he could count on.

Sam muttered, broken, wanting his life to end, "I'm in Detroit….58 River Lane."

Lucifer smiled, disappearing, Sam had never wanted his brother more than ever, but the devil was all he had.

* * *

Screams roused him from his slumber, his broken frame quivering from the abuse it had taken.

Everyone was screaming, blood curdling screams filling the small space, screams that only visited Sam in his nightmares. He hadn't wanted this, he just wanted out, to be away from the people who were doing this, not kill them.

His head lulled from side to side as the house became silent, the screams of horror and pain disappearing. The small door to his room opened, a tall shadow standing in the open frame.

Sam didn't need to ask who it was, he knew it wasn't any of the hunters, he knew it wasn't any demon, he knew it was his nightmare, the nightmare he had invited to help him.

"Sammy… " the figure murmured stepping in to the room, his cold eyes piercing through Sam's soul. The soul he was about to lose to the devil himself.

The ice cold grip of death clutched at Sam's frame as Lucifer crouched in front of him.

"D-dean" Sam mumbled, wanting his brother by his side. "P-please"

"Would you like to try and talk to him one last time?" The devil smiled, cell phone in his outstretched hand… "He won't answer."

Sam didn't care, needing to hear his brother's voice one last time. His shaking hands gripping the phone, dialing the number he knew so well.

He listened to it ring, screaming for his brother to just pick up.

"It's Dean, leave one," clicked on, Sam's heart crushed, fresh tears falling down his face.

"Dean… it's Sam. I'm sorry." He mumbled out before hanging up.

He looked up to the devil who held that smug look of victory on his face.

"It's better this way Sam," He said gently.

"Please… just leave Dean alone." Sam begged.

"Dean's off limits." Lucifer smiled. "You just need to say Yes Sam."

Sam bowed his head, waiting for the darkness, the devil the only one to come for him.

**AN: Did Dean really leave Sam there? Chapter two coming soon**

**Also depending on how this goes and if it gets the juices going again, I'm going to start up on the sequel for Dancing in the Dark again, I haven't forgotten it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So, this was originally a two part story but changed into a three part. The third chapter will hopefully be up soon, it may take me awhile because I am currently beta-less so I'll have to edit the next chapter and that may take me awhile. If anyone would like to volunteer to beta for me it would be greatly appreciated!**

**I hope you like this chapter and it doesn't disappoint! Let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter it helped my fingers type faster than they usually do :) **

**ENJOY**

Desperation was not a word that belonged in his vocabulary, and yet here he was, desperate to find his brother who had left six months ago.

Dean knew it was a mutual decision, both deciding that it would be better if they went their separate ways. But after a few weeks of being alone, Castiel the only one he could turn to… it was just so wrong.

Cell phone heavy in his hand, he tried Sam's number again, not surprised when he was met with the cell phone provider, informing him that the number no longer existed. Throwing the phone to the empty passenger seat, Dean's hand rubbed hard at his exhausted eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept a full night.

Dean had always been so good at finding his brother, had always known every inch of his brother's mind. This time was different. He had no clue where his brother was, or where he was going.

Internal alarms had gone off when Dean had first started searching for his brother. Sam had patterns, set ways of doing things, things that Dean could pick up on without much effort. This time was different: there were no signs, no patterns, it was as if Sam just disappeared, making his trace impossible to find, even for Dean.

Sam was running from something, and it terrified Dean that he had no clue what his younger brother was currently running from, and that he wasn't right there with him.

Dean knew it had been a mistake to separate; he thought it was the best thing for them. He should have known better. His entire life he had spent keeping Sam by his side. Letting him go to Stanford was the only time he had let Sam go. Even then he had always been there, watching, keeping an eye out for his younger brother.

This was different. They had always been stronger together, their weak moments coming in times when they were separated; when Sam had died and the deal was made, when Dean had died and Sam had turned to Ruby. All of their undoing had come when they had been apart.

Dean had just been so disappointed with his brother. Not wanting to deal with the emotional tears in their relationship. When Sam had offered the separation he had jumped all over it. But now, driving down the smooth country road, Dean could feel his blood pressure rising as he thought of his brother. The last conversation they had was Sam's admission to the Devil visiting him in his dreams, and still Dean had pushed him away.

His heart pounded in his chest, flashes of the future he had been shown invading his memories. He pulled the Impala to the side of the road, his chest heavy, his eyes dry… there was nothing left to come out.

His grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles white with the pressure, his teeth biting hard into his bottom lip trying to keep it together.

Six months was too long. "FUCK!" he screamed, his hands releasing the steering wheel, striking it hard, every hit releasing pent in frustration. He could feel the bruising begin but he didn't care, he just wanted to find his brother, and he had no idea where to start.

His chest moved fast, his breaths deep, trying to calm himself down. His fingers wrapped around the steering wheel once again, his grip loose. He closed his eyes, his mind running through the different avenues he may have missed. The different names they used as covers, the people they would go to for help. Dean had gone through every hunting avenue he could think of, none of them giving him any clue as to where his brother was.

"_When Sam wants to stay off the grid, he stays off the grid,"_ Bobby had reminded Dean on numerous occasions, and Dean knew that. Hell, Dean had taught Sam how to stay off the grid, but this wasn't just off the grid, because Dean should be able to find him if that were the case. This was Sam running for his life and not wanting, even Dean, to know about it.

Not that Dean had been providing Sam with the utmost support lately, admitting to him that he didn't trust him had been a huge blow in their relationship. The words had just slipped out before Dean could stop them.

It had become a common occurrence for him, not filtering what he was really thinking towards his brother. They had always grown up in a tough love household, but it wasn't something Dean had ever done with Sam. Their father was usually the one dishing out the tough love, leaving Dean to comfort Sam.

But now, it came as quickly as second nature, the comments, the looks, the distance, all things that he knew was hitting Sam where it hurt. All of Dean's 'tough love' building, growing, wearing Sam down, before finally pushing his younger brother away.

Leaving Dean to search aimlessly for a brother who didn't want to be found, and Dean couldn't blame him.

The sounds of passing cars brought Dean out of his self deprecating territory, counting the space between each passing car.

'1…2…3…4…5.' Another car passed by. There was nothing Dean could do to change the past

'1…2…3…4." A red convertible. If he could just find Sam, he could change things.

'1…2…3." A black BMW. He just needed some sort of clue, something he could follow.

Dean had long since turned his cell phone to vibrate, not wanting to talk to anyone about any hunts, or demon omens that were popping up, because he didn't care. He just wanted his brother back.

The loud vibrating noise from the passenger seat brought him away from his counting, something he had always secretly done: counting steps, counting cars, signs, anything he could find to count he did.

The cell phone moved around the seat, Bobby's name flashing on the caller ID. Dean didn't feel like talking to anyone, letting it go, happy once the voicemail clicked on. He went back to counting as another car passed.

'1…2…' The cell phone bounced around the seat once again, _'Bobby'_ flashing.

Sighing, he reached out for the black cell phone. It was a new cell; he had lost his other phone sometime in between being transferred from Heaven's waiting room, to the small church, to the airplane.

"Go," his only greeting. He didn't have time to discuss his feelings, if there was no valuable information on Sam he didn't want to talk.

"Dean, I think I have something."

_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_

The discussion couldn't be held over the phone, Bobby hadn't divulged more than that. He didn't need to explain to Dean what he had information about.

As he approached Bobby's yard he tried not to get his hope's up over the possible information.

Stopping in front of the porch, the engine was left running. The talk was going to be quick, that much he knew. Bobby was already waiting on the porch.

"You look like shit boy." Bobby muttered, looking over the older brother, moving his chair back and forth in the same spot.

"Bobby…"

No other words were needed to encourage the older hunter to give the information.

"I've heard some rumors, a group of hunters holed up in an abandoned house in Detroit. It's causing quite the stir. Your brother is a hot topic for some people."

Dean frowned, "What do you mean?" he asked, taking a step towards Bobby who continued to move his chair back and forth.

"People are split on what should be done with Sam, kill 'im, or change 'im completely and use him for the war." Bobby stopped moving, looking up to Dean whose eyes were wide.

"Where is he?" He didn't need Bobby to explain, he could read between the lines. His brother was in the house with the hunters trying to turn him. Dean's blood boiled at the thought of some arrogant pricks forcing his brother to do something he didn't want.

"58 River Lane in Detroit. Boy, from what I've heard they've been there for a little over a week. So we better get going."

Dean paused, "We?"

"You idjit. You think I'm gonna let you go there on your own? I may be in a wheel chair but the last time I checked you didn't need your legs to fire a gun."

Dean nodded, there was no time to argue. As far as he was concerned he was walking into a massacre, and he was bringing Bobby with him. But his only thought was Sam.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

They left late afternoon. It didn't matter how fast Dean was going, the trip seemed to be lasting a lifetime. _'Hold on Sam, hold on Sam'_ was his inner chant, the only thing keeping him together.

Dean knew that any area in Detroit that had an abandoned house would be an interesting area, and this didn't disappoint.

The night was still young, people were just emerging from their hiding holes. Prostitutes lined the street corners, homeless men and women wandered around aimlessly. Their feet barely lifting as they shuffled along the dark road, most muttering under their breaths as they walked, talking to their own inner demons trapped in their heads.

Most times Dean would have parked the Impala in a different neighborhood and found a different way to get to their destination. But there was no time for that, and the car was really useless to him if he didn't have his brother as his front passenger.

The area didn't phase Bobby. "This is River Lane," he announced, looking to the right. Dean saw the rusty street sign, hidden in the darkness, the full moon providing the only faded light. The street lamps looked to have been out for years, no one wanting to come and replace the bulbs.

Glancing at the houses along the street, Dean took note of the lights scattered through the neighborhood. Some houses looked to be housing families, while others looked to be housing street rats looking for a place to squat for the night. Dean reached for his flashlight, shining it on the house numbers, stopping the car at number 54. Two doors down stood the house that could possibly hold his brother, his family.

58 stood in darkness, no sign that anyone was in the house. "Are you sure this is the right one?" Dean asked, looking to Bobby.

"It's the house I've been told… let's check it out." Bobby swung open his door, carefully moving each of his legs so they were outside the front seat. Dean reached for the folded wheelchair in the back seat, pulling it out he walked around to Bobby's door. Unfolding the chair, he placed it in front of the older hunter.

Walking back to his trunk, Dean gathered up the supplies he would need. Anything that would do damage was good enough for him: knives, guns, rocksalt, anything he could use.

The streets were abnormally quiet. People walked the ridges of the street but none dared to come any closer to the quiet abandoned house baring the number 58, their subconscious alarms going off that something just wasn't right.

Dean wasted no time, his only plan was to walk through that front door and kill anything that stopped him from getting to his brother. That was if Sam was even in there.

"No plan?" Bobby asked quietly.

"Not unless you have one?" Dean replied continuing to walk towards the house.

"Nope, front door guns blazing sounds like the Winchester way of doing things. Should probably wait and see if Sam's in there first before we go killing a whole bunch of innocent homeless people." Bobby suggested, and Dean just nodded. He had no intentions on wasting his time killing a house full of street rats.

An eerie silence fell over the hunters as they approached the front door; thankfully there were no steps to lift Bobby up on to.

The house sat in silence. No voices could be heard, no whispers of anticipation, just silence. The windows were boarded up, the glass having long been knocked out. Dean knocked on the door, surprised to find it opened easily, not a characteristic of a hunter who bolted every door and window of a place.

"Something's not right," Bobby muttered, following Dean into the dark house. Stopping just inside of the door, Dean stood on one side, Bobby the other, to get them out of the fatal funnel that the door way presented.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, goosebumps flaring instantly, "Something is very wrong." Dean raised his flashlight, waiting a second, trying to listen for any sort of noise, but the silence was deafening. He clicked on his light.

The walls were painted red with the blood from the nameless bodies scattered over the floor. The old house absorbing the screams of terror and torture that had fallen within its decrepit walls just a few short hours ago. Bodies lay scattered, arms and legs detached from the torsos' that had no heads.

"I think this is our house," Dean muttered, stepping forward, kicking random body parts out of Bobby's way so he could move freely.

"Boy, if the angel I'm thinking of cleared this house out, we need a better plan than guns blazing." Bobby wheeled forward, gun never wavering as they continued to search the rooms.

Dean stopped looking at the older hunter, "Ya, I think I have a plan."

SNSNSNSNSN

Sam's chest hurt, struggling to breathe as the devil backed away, cell phone disappearing in thin air.

"I'm waiting, Sam." Lucifer smiled, his skin flaking and falling away from the Host's face. Sam watched it fall to the ground.

"Don't worry about that Sammy, this guy wasn't meant for me, you on the other hand. You will never flake or rot."

Sam just stared on, looking at the Host body, the man that once inhabited the rotting skin, replaced and stripped from his body.

"Sam… an answer." The Devil stepped closer to him, irritation clear in his voice.

"I, I'm not" Sam began, his words cut short, the air forced from his lungs as his ribs twisted and cracked.

He tried to curl in on himself, his broken body trying to stop the pain. He couldn't find his voice to scream.

"I'm not wasting anymore time, Sam." The red pupils of the Devil shone in the dim light. "I need that 'yes', and I finally have you on your own, already broken from your own kind torturing you. I can Save you, take all of the pain away."

Sam took in a deep breath as his chest relaxed. Slumped over, he concentrated on breathing as Lucifer crouched before him.

"Nobody cares about you, Sam. They all want you to rot in the ground, but before they send you there they want you to suffer, to drink the demon blood you crave. Your own brother wants you to suffer, why else would he tell other hunters how to find you. Why else would he partake in beating you?"

Sam stopped, his heart caught in his throat, looking up hazel eyes meeting the deep red, "What?"

Lucifer just smirked, quirking his head to the side, "You don't remember?" He asked, a small frown on his peeling face. "Let me refresh you." His hand came to rest on Sam's forehead.

The world tilted and turned, tossing Sam back into his thoughts and memories.

SNSNSNSNSN

_The crack of the whip caused him to flinch, the sharp pain of it cutting through his skin fresh in his mind. He cried out in pain. _

"_Please, please stop," he begged, his hands chained above his head, his toes barely touching the ground. Listening to the whip snap back, he waited for it to come forward once again. _

"It's all your fault Sam." The familiar voice was cold and hard. His brother walked into his view. "You ruined my life… You took my soul."

_Sam tensed at the words, "Dean?"_

"_Don't," Dean took a step back, hand up. "I spent my life protecting you, I gave my life, my soul, bringing you back. Only to have you turn against me." _

_The whip hit hard. Sam held back the scream that dared to tear past his lips._

"_I have no brother," Dean whispered, the whip cutting through the air, landing hard against Sam's skin. Sam screamed. _

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam shook his head hard. "No, no, no, no"

"Yes Sam, I wouldn't lie to you." A Hand reached toward Sam's bleeding face.

"Fuck you!" Sam screamed, tearing his head from the Devil's grasp, his chest heaving, finding it hard to breathe. Breaths coming in short hard gasps, he pulled hard at his chains, the links cutting into this wrists and ankles.

Screaming, he could feel as his shoulder dislocated, but he continued to pull and struggle. He couldn't believe it. "There's no way, there's no way" was his only chant as he continued to struggle.

Lucifer stood, "Sam, your brother does NOT care about you. Is he here now? You saw it yourself, he was here, he hurt you…. It's over Sam, you have no one."

"Think again." Dean stood, Bobby beside him, the colt in one hand, the other grasped firmly to the back of Bobby's chair. His eyes never strayed from the Devil who held his gaze firm.

"Dean… I don't have time for this." Lucifer smirked his hand coming up.

"Don't," Sam screamed, his eyes on his brother, "You do anything to him and it's over." Blood pooled in his mouth, spilling to the floor and dripping off his chin. His eyes locked on Dean, wanting nothing more than to have his brother just glance over to him.

The Devil's hand lowered, slowly. "It's so nice of you to join us, Dean." Irritation evident in the Devils smooth voice, his head quirking to the side as the smirk formed on his dry lips.

"Oh, I'm sure it is." Dean scowled, his finger clenching against the trigger of the colt.

Lucifer's head tilted to the side. "You already know that won't work." He smiled.

"No, no, it won't, but this will." Dean smiled back, raising his bloody hand in the air before slamming it hard into the back of Bobby's wheelchair. The room engulfed in white, the devil screaming as he was thrown from the room, and out of the house.

SNSNSNSNSN

The Devil was an Angel, a fallen Angel, but still an Angel. Dean wasn't sure if it was going to work, as he drew the symbol on the back of Bobby's wheel chair. But when the light cleared from the room, he didn't waste anytime rushing to Sam.

His brother was shackled to the wall like an animal, his blood everywhere. Dean tried to keep his mind focused, wanting nothing more than to stop and fix his brother. But he had to get them out of the house, out of the area, not knowing how long Lucifer would be gone.

"Dean?" His brother's head rolled from side to side, his eyes unfocused and confused.

"Ya Sammy, it's me, I'm trying to get you out of here, but it's going to hurt." Dean winced looking at the various open wounds, broken bones and dislocated joints.

"It's okay," Sam mumbled.

"No, Sam, it's not okay," Dean mumbled back as he worked quickly, his heart sinking as he tried to ignore the cries of pain that came from his brother as they moved out of the house. Thankfully there were no stairs to conquer. Bobby tried to clear the path for the boys to walk through, moving the body parts to rest against the wall.

Dean tried to survey the major injuries as they walked, the cuts and the obvious marks from a sharp whip superficial. But those tended to be more painful than the injuries that required stitching.

Sam's body hitched in pain as they moved to get in the car. "I'm sorry Sammy, just lay back, you're safe now little brother." Dean moved quickly, it had been 15 minutes since he had cast Lucifer from the small room, and he wasn't sure how quickly he could come back.

SNSNSNSNSN

The engine hummed as Dean pressed on the gas pedal hard. He didn't lift his foot once, praying a transient didn't walk in front of his car because he wasn't stopping. Glancing in the rearview mirror his brother shook slightly as he lay in the back seat. His face contorting in pain with every bump and divot Dean hit in the road.

Bobby tried to turn himself so he could reach Sam but it was useless.

It didn't matter, Dean would be stopping on the side of the road to do a little triage before he continued on, he just had to make it out of the city and onto a backcountry road.

Sam was beyond pale. Dean wasn't sure if it was because of the stark contrast of the blood on his face, but he could see the prominent dark circles under his brother's eyes, even in the dim light.

The stocky frame his brother had built while Dean was in hell had diminished greatly. The muscle mass was gone from lack of nutrients, his face shallow and sunken in. This wasn't the same Sam he had seen six months ago.

Dean could feel his anger rising as he thought of the past six months, thought of how they had separated, how Sam had come to him after his fist encounter with Lucifer and Dean had pushed him away. He gripped the steering wheel hard, holding in the anger that threatened to spill over; he wanted to scream, to shout, to hit everything and anything that was close to him.

Instead his voice cracked. "Goddammit Sammy." It was nothing more than a whisper, garnering only the smallest fraction of Bobby's attention.

His emotions were overwhelming, the thought of the devil catching up to them adding to Dean's anxiety. He had spent months searching for his brother, and now that he had him, he had no intentions of losing him again.

A quiet groan from the back seat garnered his attention. Looking back quickly he could see his brother trying to shift around. "Easy Sam, try not to move too much," Dean called out, his brother settling instantly.

"We need to pull over," Bobby muttered, looking to Dean who nodded in acknowledgement.

They needed to pull over desperately. Dean just didn't know where it was safe to do that. He had tricked the devil once, he doubted he would ever be able to do that again.

**AN: I hope it was okay! One more chapter to go… let me know what you think, reviews help the fingers type faster. **


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